


Poplin

by YungWenLean



Category: Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu | Legend of the Galactic Heroes
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:53:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26594788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YungWenLean/pseuds/YungWenLean
Summary: Me and Attenborough? Yeah, look, first of all you need to understand one thing - everyone has done it with everyone here. Anyone can die anytime, and I guess that’s why everyone has done it with everyone. Because, even if you’re not romantically involved like that, these are the closest people you have. These are the people you trust. They get you.
Relationships: Dusty Attenborough/Olivier Poplin, Hortense Caselnes/Alex Caselnes/Olivier Poplin, Hortense Caselnes/Alex Caselnes/Walter von Schenkopp, Hortense Caselnes/Olivier Poplin, Ivan Konev/Olivier Poplin, Olivier Poplin/ Original Female Character, Olivier Poplin/Frederica Greenhill, Olivier Poplin/Walter von Schenkopp
Comments: 12
Kudos: 14





	Poplin

**Author's Note:**

> I might have messed up the timeline a bit as to when Attenborough joined Yang's fleet and when exactly they all got stationed at Iserlohn. It doesn't really, you know, change any of the central points of the fic, so I'll just leave it as is.
> 
> Check the end notes for illustrations!

  
  


_ Another day, on the mess deck after lunch sailors were sitting around, talking about the problems of allowing women to serve aboard submarines. One man said it would only be a matter of time before two people fell in love, somebody ended up pregnant, and they’d have to scrub a ninety-day mission to return to port. _

_ To this I said no way. I’d been on board long enough to see how cramped their life was. No way, I said, could two people find the room and the privacy to have sex on board. _

_ And another sailor crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back in his chair, and said, “Oh, it happens!” Loud and clear, he smirked and said, “It happens a lot!” _

_ Then he realized what he’d said. He’d acknowledged the invisible elephant. _

_ Every man in the room was glaring at him. _

_ What followed was the longest moment of angry silence in Navy history. _

The People Can, Chuck Palahniuk

  
  


Me and Attenborough? Yeah, look, first of all you need to understand one thing - everyone has done it with everyone here. I’m not gay… I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being… I mean, some guys are, and good for them, honestly, because there’s mostly men in the Fleet. But then again, you risk losing your friends all the time, it’s a part of the job, and that’s hard enough. Imagine returning from a battle and getting the news. Fuck, really, I don’t have to imagine, I’ve seen it happen. Breaks your heart. The Empire does make a mistake there, widowers don’t fuck around.. You know, the Rosen Ritter… Well, just imagine a Rosen Ritter but also you killed his fiance two weeks ago. There are  _ legends _ . Strindberg took out a cruiser with his bare hands. And an axe. A  _ cruiser _ . That happens to mixed couples too, of course, I’ve seen that happen, but not as often. As I said, not many girls here. 

So what I’m saying is, anyone can die anytime, and I guess that’s why everyone has done it with everyone. Because, even if you’re not romantically involved like that, these are the closest people you have. These are the people you trust. They get you. These are the guys you drink with… oh, that, of course, is a part of it. Everyone drinks. All the time. You’ve been through shit, you’ve seen things... or, you know, to celebrate that no one is shooting at you right now so you can… Yeah. Theoretically, you are just allowed one… two beers… uh… I don’t remember the ration, I bet Alex does... No one  _ cares _ . But yeah, you can have this and this many beers a  _ week _ , maybe like twice a week or something? But hard liquor is easier to transport, plus everyone knows that Program 4 in the hypno bed gets you sober. They don’t teach you that at the Academy, but you learn pretty quick once you get out. You learn pretty quickly about doing it with everyone too... 

A lot of people think it starts at the Academy, because young hot blood, dorms, something something. That’s just… at the Academy you are mostly sober on weekdays and no one is trying to kill you for real. There are girls less than fifty light years away. Most guys straight out of the Academy just don’t  _ get  _ it. They tell you they are straight or whatever. Think it means something if you are a top or a bottom. They put so much pride into the whole thing… Oh, you probably want to know about me and Schönkopf? Yeah, about Attenborough, I’ll get there. It just really won’t make sense if you don’t know how things usually went back then. But yeah, so, Schönkopf. Just, you know, because I was talking about  _ pride _ and how some guys just never learn.  _ Of course  _ we’ve done it. You fight together, you drink together, you talk about the ladies, you end up in his bed. But, that’s how we are different, him and me. It’s really important for him to  _ win _ . And he has some backwards Keiser Rudolph frilly collar ideas about sex, so I just let him have his way, and afterwards he felt like a  _ man _ , like not getting fucked makes you  _ special _ . It’s adorable, you should’ve seen him afterwards. For me, I get fucked good and don’t have to do a thing. He’s  _ good _ . It’s not a competition to  _ me _ , so I can say that. 

So, Attenborough. Yeah. Well, you know him. He has this ability to kinda blend into the background, but once you start thinking about him, like  _ really  _ thinking… He’s just better than you at almost everything? Not everything that  _ counts _ , but almost everything. But also a pain. Guys like him drive me crazy, the laid back quiet type. They’ll never tell you they are good, you need to figure it out by yourself and then you look like an idiot. Yang was like that. And Konev. Damn I miss him. He was great. Honestly, one of the best, and never said a word about it. Drove me insane. I would come back from battle and tell everyone my numbers, and then someone would ask him and he beat me, of course. Made me make a fool of myself.

Actually, not many people know about that, but we used to sleep together a lot. Like, I mean, sleep-sleep. The other sleep too, obviously, but with Konev I actually slept …literally. Is that the word, or am I using it the other way around? No, that’s the word. Such an Ivan word. Or Dusty word. Useless. Anyway, I’d sneak out from some girl because I didn’t want her to get ideas about us being girlfriend and boyfriend. Konev would say that it was more about me not wanting to face the fact that girls did not want a guy like me for a boyfriend. Anyway, I’d sneak out and then sneak into Konev’s bunk… I had access to his… anyway, I’d sneak in, and he’d be sleepy and spoon me, and I’d sleep like a baby. He would always wake up earlier, because  _ he _ did not sneak out of anywhere, and we’d do it really intimately like, like, lots of skin, really close… He’d fuck me usually, Schönkopf would  _ never  _ get that. Then he’d hit the shower, let me sleep for a while longer too. Sometimes I didn’t even sneak out from anyone, I’d just go to his place if I couldn’t sleep. Man... 

And Attenborough, he’s smart, just like Konev. Not as sweet as Konev though, we could get into a real argument over a bottle or two. With a girl I’d probably called it banter, but with Attenborough, he was just being a pain, honestly. I didn’t think about it any other way. He’d be a pain and then super sensitive about his age, and I’d be easily offended over whatever else and we tried to outdo each other. We were at Bar on Five that first time. It was a briefing room, but it sucked for briefings because there were pillars everywhere. It had a small bar, though, for diplomatic purposes, I guess. Most officers had access to the room, and it was on level five that didn’t have much alternative for recreation. So it became a lounge of sorts. Thus Bar on Five. We were creative like that. 

There were a bunch of us at first, there was a briefing earlier that day and everyone needed to unwind after hours of bullshit. Patrichev had lemons that unlike liquor were hard to get by. Schönkopf was talking about how democracy was flawed because the brass didn’t appreciate Yang enough. Not all “Yang for dictator” like he got later, but a bit like that. Yang scratched his head, quoted  _ The Art of War _ … man, I have no idea how he managed to get home in that state. I mean, he was always thinking ten steps ahead of us, so he probably  _ really  _ needed a drink after that briefing. Cazerne kept our spirits high, he’d always keep calm in situations like that, he explained double-entry bookkeeping to me that night… It was funny for obvious reasons... but, honestly, he made it sound like so much fun that I remember some of that stuff to this day. 

It was funny because Cazernes came as a package, of  _ course _ . Like Hortense would let Alex do something like that without her. Maybe with some old Academy buddy, I don’t know, but at the Yang fleet it was a Hortense operation. You’d get invited to dinner, all grown up, and their daughters would be at the dinner and you’d  _ converse _ … That’s the thing, right, I was never good at that kind of talk, but Hortense brought out something in you and suddenly I was there talking like a grown up, saying smart things about  _ politics  _ and wine, and  _ books _ ? I wasn’t a big reader, but you know, there was time to kill in space, and I’d read something, and afterwards Hortense would ask me a question and I’d just say the first thing… and I’d hear myself talk and feel like “oh, so  _ that’s _ what the book was about?!”, like she made me appreciate it more? She made me feel smart, like Attenborough or Konev… It wasn’t important to me like to Attenborough, of course, but, you know, it was  _ nice _ . 

That’s just what Hortense did, she made you feel good about yourself. I can’t even imagine how it must feel to be Alex, having someone like that at home. Probably why he was one of the sane ones of the bunch. Or maybe because he got his dick sucked like that, at  _ home _ , on a _ regular basis _ . Some of us had to struggle to maybe get one blowjob like that a  _ year _ , and he could just say that he was going home for lunch and everyone went “oh Hortense’s home cooking” but those of us who knew, we  _ knew _ . At least I would not go home just for the cooking.

So, yeah, double-entry was funny when Cazerne talked about it… Not that that thing in particular was that common, but sure… And here is the thing again, she made you feel  _ great _ . When the three of us did it, she always made me feel amazing, like everything I did was perfect. It’s like with the books, she would just nudge you in the right direction, just tilt her hips in a certain way or moan at the right moment. She’d nudge you, and you would do something you’d never done before, and it would feel great, just great. You’d just feel amazing about yourself, but also very aware of how Alex is the best. And you would feel great about that too. She was just that perfect wife and hostess, I guess, loyal to her husband, made the guests happy. I got girls laid so good for  _ weeks  _ after those dinners, because I would feel like the greatest lover. Cazerne actually told me Hortense was the one to suggest me because she had heard some talk among other women that I was good, and then she made me even better, so she really contributed to the community that way. 

So yeah, that was Alex, and he stayed late that night. Me, Schönkopf and Attenborough teamed up on him about how his old lady would hit him with a frying pan when he got home. When Cazerne left, Schönkopf and I teamed up on Attenborough about him being pretentious, and also a fresh new way to remind him that he was an idiot. During the briefing earlier that day, when they asked if anyone had any questions, Attenborough said he did and well, basically… He had a  _ point _ .  _ Lots of points _ , even. But he also made the whole thing into a speech, and everyone knew it was all useless anyway. It was not  _ that  _ bad, but he was clearly embarrassed about getting carried away and me and Schönkopf could smell fear. So we gave him a hard time, until Schönkopf was laughing so hard that he really had to go to the restroom.

So it’s just me and Attenborough left, and I kept talking about how he really should learn when to keep his mouth shut. “Maybe you could show me how?” he said. Good move, star tactician, and while I was contemplating my response Dusty leaned in and kissed me.

I knew it was the Commodore Attenborough in him. I knew I should’ve pulled back and said something. Like something that I’d rather show him how to shut up by… I got really stupid, honestly. No words. No plan. I was racing through all kinds of flyboy talk, things I could say about the Spartanians and attack and shutting up, but everything my head could offer was stupid and embarrassing. Worse yet, my body had gone from nothing to ready for action. Those white pants are tight, mine sure were back then, and at that moment I was rock hard at an awkward angle.

I knew Attenborough couldn’t know for sure. We were both standing up at one of those round bar tables. He didn’t touch me at all, when he kissed me he simply leaned over. But it felt like he knew, and that too felt stupid and embarrassing. I guess my respect for him on the battlefield played into the whole situation. We all knew he was good. He could sense what the enemy was planning to pull, you know. Had that intuition. He had no way of knowing how hard I got and how fast, but it felt like he knew. I was the Empire, I was fucked. Also, I kinda wanted to be fucked… 

Oh, this time I don’t mean it literally. I hadn’t had the time to think that far ahead. I was just… I knew I had to break the kiss at some point and do something clever, I just did not want that moment to happen just yet. He was… He was good. He started slowly but at the perfect angle. Lips soft and firm and a bit open and inviting me to soften and open up. My whole body just knew right then, when those lips opened enough, when I opened up enough, there would be tongue... Just… perfect. Kissing is hard to explain. From the first second it was clear that the tip of my tongue would touch his teeth and his teeth would be smooth and hard and I would want to pull in, get closer, feel the inside of his mouth, feel him breathe. I knew all that the instant his lips brushed mine.

All of that came true. He tasted great. It might be a weird thing to say, but I remember thinking that it had been a long time since I’d actually enjoyed food. The food at the Fleet was alright. When the fleet was the only home you had it felt home cooked. Now that I was getting promoted and all, I had actually been to some nice restaurants when on leave, you know. Where you actually wanted to, what’s the word, savor? Yeah, really just take it slow and taste the flavors and the texture... You got reminded that  _ alcohol  _ could have textures. So, that time, kissing Dusty, feeling that every second was a good second to keep kissing him, I remember thinking about the food on Heinessen. Dusty’s mouth had textures. Dusty’s mouth _ tasted nice _ , and that was almost an insult worse than the kiss itself after how many bottles of some Doria brandy or whatever... My cock was hard, my head empty, I was trapped while Dusty was still cooly leaning against the table, holding his glass in his hand.

Just like that Dusty did what Dusty Attenborough does best - strategic retreat. He pulled back, his whole body moving, he was standing straight at the table again. Glass in hand, relaxed. I wish he had said “Yeah, I could learn how to shut up from you”, just delivered the punch line and got it over with. He didn’t. He knew that I knew, and he clearly didn’t want to give me a line to spin on. He just poured me more, of... I remember now, because Patrichev made sours with El Facil whiskey. That’s what it was. He was good at making drinks out of nearly nothing, I miss him. Had other good sides too, but mixing something in those conditions? - He was a catch. Patrichev. Attenborough was an asshole. Schönkopf was a hero. He arrived a couple of seconds later and mistook the silence for us being ready for real talk about how everything in the FPA sucks.

Oh, I should mention the reason why I got so startled. Because, you know, it wasn’t like people hadn’t drunk kissed me before, and normally I knew my way around it. You see, if he had kissed me in a corridor ten minutes later, it would have been by the rules. But when he kissed me at that table at Bar on Five… Alright, the lights were  _ dimmed _ , but it was still a bar, not a corridor past curfew. And there were other people there too. Some Rosen Ritters who had said hi to Schönkopf before, and Lessing with some engineers, Jahani and… Well, doesn’t matter, point being was that you didn’t just kiss a guy in public. Sure, we were behind a pillar, but still, you just  _ didn’t _ . You didn’t get emotional in public in general, and as I said, everybody was doing everybody, but you know, you did it in private. Not because it was anything to be ashamed of, like, no one cared apart from the fresh recruits. But really, you didn’t do it in public, and you didn’t talk about it. It was private, sensitive, somehow. Unless you were an item and then you talked about it and then they killed your boyfriend and you sank a cruiser. 

I actually tried to talk about it with Merkatz and Schneider. Like, how do they do it in the Empire. Merkatz looked at me like I was a kid asking him if he had  _ ever done it _ \- He told me that he married young, and something about how the nobility usually didn’t have to resort to those kinds of solutions. He was always really decent to me when we talked about work, but yeah, I’d been surprised if he had told me about that kind of stuff. He had that good old school decency about him that he carried well. Schneider was  _ slightly  _ more talkative. We got along quite well, and they had a stash of decent Empire brandy when they defected, that helped. The alcohol didn’t last long, but we still got along, and I could ask him about that kind of stuff. From what I recall, yeah, of course they do, but it is more sensitive over there because it had been illegal for many years. You could get court martialed, but guys did it anyway. 

A lot of higher ranking officers were from the nobility, of course, and were more or less allowed to bring along a mistress. Because bringing the wife to a battle ship was too dangerous. I keep forgetting that nobility is a thing that exists in the Empire, like, in my lifetime. But yeah, it makes sense how their fleet kept losing to the FPA even though they outnumbered us. If I could bring a mistress along, yeah, well, that’s… yeah. Also, of course, we had our share of men promoted for the wrong reasons, but in the Empire you could be made admiral just for being born in a certain family. That’s not what wins you battles, even if your mistress is not around to distract. The mistress thing really explained why Iserlohn had such spacious quarters. If it was an FPA fortress you’d get a bunk wide enough to sleep on your side and that’s it.

Schneider tried to explain to me how the whole nobility thing worked, but I mostly remember what he told me about the sex. Like, obviously because of them having a thing for bloodlines they are really good at genetic testing because it’s important to know who the father is. But they have pretty much the same birth control as us, only they don’t include it in your standard Fleet equipment like we do. So if you want it, you have to buy it yourself. Schneider said it was because they generally didn’t accept women into the Fleet, so it wasn’t supposed to be an issue. That’s why it was more common in the Empire that it was just the women who used birth control. It was available in pharmacies though and abortion was legal too. I thought they were more old fashioned with that, because they were more old fashioned with other sex stuff. It was useful information for me when I got to Odin. And yeah, Schneider said that in his experience everyone is doing everyone on their side too, maybe even more because they have even less women onboard. But that you  _ really  _ don’t talk about it, and if there are couples they are not public either. So that sucks. Both the even less women thing, but the other thing too, obviously. He also showed me a picture of Merkatz when he was young, and I mean,  _ maaaaan… _ .

Anyway, so I was standing there looking like an idiot when Schönkopf returned from his break. The three of us had a short but good talk about how we are all fucked if the brass keep making their speeches and handshakes about heroic sacrifices, because we  _ are  _ the heroic sacrifices. “Don’t want to die before I turn 27” I added and Attenborough just glanced at me and I almost managed looking like I had forgotten all about the kiss. I hadn’t, I could still feel it on my lips, so I tried to get drunk enough to reach another level and have Schönkopf carry me home and leave me alone in my misery. I seemed to have hit a plateau, though. I was drunk, and I was remembering the kiss and I was really trying to focus on the conversation. When the bottle was empty we decided to head home. We walked past the rest of the guys at the Bar, Jahari and the rest. I felt a bit like they  _ knew _ , but I knew the problem was that  _ I _ knew. 

We got to the elevator. I knew that Schönkopf was getting off one level before Attenborough, and then I had another two to go. That meant only half a minute of awkward silence. Well, at least I knew that I could shut up with Attenborough… Maan, I was so frustrated! I also knew that if he tried to do something, anything… This was not a bar full of witnesses, I could handle this. It just had to be  _ him  _ making the first move. If I moved first, it would just be me falling into his trap. I am a shoot them up guy, not a look at triangles and semicircles guy, but I know enough about tactics. Best case - Attenborough makes a move, shows weakness, I take over and fuck him senseless. Worst case - I take a move, admit that the kiss left me wanting. OK case - nobody makes a move, we pretend it never happened. Maybe fuck some other time, when the circumstances didn’t turn me into some sort of fresh recruit Schönkopf type that thought about sex in terms of winning and losing. Just me thinking like sex was a competition was a sign that Attenborough had me cornered. 

Schönkopf wished us good night and the doors closed. The elevator started moving. I had 25 seconds to keep cool, and then I could relax. It was doable. And then Attenborough just turned to the control panel and blipped his access chip. Everyone had one of those, and the higher your rank the more you could use the facilities as you pleased. Like the Bar I was talking about before, you had to have access, but most did. Or knew someone who did. Anyway, Attenborough being Attenborough probably had clearance for almost everything and your mom’s emergency codes. The control panel blipped, he pushed a button, the elevator stopped. Of course, he could make an emergency stop. For whatever reason, that’s something you could do as an officer. At that time of the night, the chance of anyone overriding him was slight. Now he really got me cornered.

Attenborough turned around and walked up to me, looking me straight in the eye. He stopped half a step short of letting our bodies meet. I could smell his breath and I felt my lips part on their own. I felt the blood rush down again, my erection in an a bit more comfortable position this time. You know, you might wonder how I could even get so hard being so drunk. At least I do, now that I think of it. Now there’s no chance in Hell I  _ myself  _ would be able to stand up after drinking half of that. But back then, that’s how life was I guess. Being younger didn’t hurt, for sure. I guess we were in survival mode all that time. Your body was there for you no matter what. So back then, in the elevator, Attenborough was looking me straight in the eye and I was rock hard. It was probably fully visible if you just looked down. He didn’t. We were still locked in a stare off, and I was trying to focus on the color of his eyes so that I would not be the one to break the contact and look somewhere else, disclosing my intentions. I looked into his eyes many more times after that, but ask me about what colour his eyes are, and it’s the elevator I remember. A weird greyish greenish almost metallic color.

With his eyes still locked in on mine, Dusty started sinking down. I could not read his expression at all. Once again, my plans dissolved into a single thought of how I should do something, anything, but not  _ right now _ . Not this second. Next second. Next instant I would turn this thing around.

The first time Dusty touched me as a lover was when he was on his knees, still looking me in the eye, his face close to my cock still squashed against my body by my uniform pants. Dusty has an ease about him that makes everything he does look like he has already been through that moment before and knows exactly what was about to happen. That’s how he poured the whiskey after kissing me. That was how he was unbuttoning my uniform pants in the elevator. He pulled up my jacket a bit, unclasped the belt, unbuttoned, unzipped the fly. I sighed when my erection finally was somewhat free. My briefs were still on, of course, but they were not as tight and my semi-released cock touched Dusty’s cheek through the fabric. I wondered if there was a wet spot at the tip already. I was lost. I was about to explode. I felt that I blushed, and I saw Dusty look at me and smile. Not the way he would when he just managed to outwit someone. More like he just saw a good friend. It felt reassuring, and I had no idea if I even wanted to turn this thing around anymore. 

Next instant he broke our eye to eye, pulled down my briefs just below my balls and I felt his breath as my released cock brushed against his face. He licked his lips, I heard it rather than saw it, and then the head was in his mouth. I expected him to be  _ ok _ . I don’t know why, honestly. I guess it’s because I never really had seen him as someone who gets laid. I mean, there are people who  _ do _ , and there are people who don’t as much. The latter can still be fun to do it with, but they are not really… good? Fun, yes, maybe, sure. Good? Nah. People who have a lot of sex get better, hey, I speak from experience... Practice makes perfect, right? And anyway, it’s just logical. I had never really heard anything about Dusty, or from Dusty, so I assumed he would be… Ok. Just ok. Why I was stuck in that illusion just an hour after he showed me what he could do with his mouth, I do not know. I just… From the second he slid his lips over the head, I knew I was dealing with that Attenborough who, once you think about it, is  _ really good _ at things.

There is this idea that a guy knows how to pleasure a guy because both have the same equipment. I call bullshit. People who don’t know how to fuck are equal opportunity disasters. Like all those guys that have a cock, but still take “sucking cock” literally. Like, they will actually bump their head up and down and suck on it until you shoot your load and they think they’ve done their part. But, come on… And well, apparently, because the guy attached to my dick was Dusty “I’m good at everything I do” Attenborough there was quality to what he did. He started by just letting the head slide in between his wet lips, and… mmmh! Everything just went dark for a second because whatever blood was still in my head rushed to my face and to my cock and everywhere but the part of me that still could think. I leaned back, and Dusty smashed his hand into the wall behind me for support and just kept sliding his lips over the head. I had to look away, I was embarrassed somehow. I didn’t want him to look up and see how good he was.

Dusty added tongue, swirling it around me in his mouth, while he kept sliding his lips up and down the top inch of me. As soon as I got used to a rhythm he took a tiny short break and next time he slid down he took me by surprise. At some point instead of sliding down again he added his hand, letting his fingers brush up and down the shaft, lightly, barely touching, like he was trying to map my cock for future maneuvers… and then he just slid his mouth all the way down in one swish movement. 

I screamed. I’m not… Enormous. If it was  _ just  _ the size, I would not be a legend the ladies whisper to each other about. But I’m above average. I was definitely not used to people diving in just like that, and when they try there is usually not enough spit to let it slide all the way in so effortlessly. Hell, it’s not a pussy that’s been waiting for you for hours, it’s a mouth with teeth and everything. But there I was, thrusting against his face to meet up this smooth wet movement, and the only reason why I didn’t come that instant was the shock of it all. I screamed, he moaned, I didn’t hear it, but I could feel it. With one hand against the wall and the other on my thigh, Dusty started to move his head up and down, the hand on my thigh preventing me from thrusting my hips forward. When I got used to the pleasure and regained some control over myself he let go and added the hand to the movement on the cock, stroking it as he kept swallowing the whole thing and then moving back to just letting his lips touch the head. He went on like this for a minute or so, and whatever I said earlier about guys just sucking it, that was just sucking but damn it was good.

Dusty was in no hurry to make me come. Sometimes I had a second or two when I could collect my thoughts enough to consider pulling him up and regaining control of the situation. But every time before I could get my body to move he did something new with his mouth or his hand and I was lost again. I would regain the control, just not just yet. Not this particular moment. Not when he started flicking his tongue at that spot where the skin connects. Not when he licked the underside from the root and all the way up.  _ Almost  _ when he touched my balls and I got ticklish, but not when he soon figured out how to use that sensitivity to his advantage. With people I have dated, it could take them weeks to figure that out, and most never really did. I just told most people to stay away from my balls. Dusty, he just knew. Maybe I would have been more prepared for his movements if I looked at him, but I never once looked down.

I was ready to come the second he put his lips around my cock and I can not say how long he kept me on the edge. Every time I was about to explode he found a new way to tease me. Also, I was wasted, so my memory is... It all could have lasted twenty seconds, for all I know. But it felt like hours. So ten minutes maybe? At some point I noticed that Dusty was going in for the kill and I… just let him. What else could I do. My cock was deep in his mouth, his hand around the base, I could hear myself scream, and I just blacked out. It was not just the elevator thing, the buildup started hours earlier. I felt my legs grow weak and leaned against the wall while trying to pull up my pants as efficiently as possible. I felt Dusty rise, heard him swallow, move around and blip his access chip again. The elevator started moving. I realised that the darkness was not me blacking out in orgasm anymore, I had just forgotten to open my eyes.

Attenborough stood up, looking straight at me, smiling like he had won,while his mouth must be tasting like my cum. My mind was empty, I was empty. What would happen now? Would we go to his room and he would fuck me? Did he expect me to blow him? The elevator stopped and the doors opened. “See you, sober up!” Attenborough said cheerfully and started walking. The doors closed. I was alone. I realised that I wanted him to kiss me again. He never did in the elevator. I arrived at my floor and it hit me how drunk I was. Seasick, as we would call it in the Fleet. Because, you know, it was a fleet, and when you drink it’s like the ship is rocking in a storm, the deck is moving, you can’t walk straight, and you want to throw up. When you turned up for work after a hard night you could ask the rest if they had noticed the storm yesterday. Many had. I was definitely not walking straight through the corridor. I was almost at my door, though, when I realised that sleeping alone was the last thing I wanted. I went to Konev instead and passed out on top of him.

I met Dusty again a few days later. Back then we didn’t really work close together. It was back to usual. The sarcasm, the laid back-ness and not talking too much about himself. I started looking at him differently, though. The small things he did with ease - I started noticing them. He’d open a sealed bottle of brandy and pour a perfect glass barely looking, then pass the bottle to Patrichev like Patrichev was a guest at one of those fine restaurants. I started noticing how his uniform pants fit perfectly. Or how he would ask Greenhill questions while the rest of us got loud and started interrupting her. Oh, Greenhill by the way, we never really… Ok, right so Greenhill had this problem with being a woman in the military, and FPA could have all kinds of equal rights talk but, Hell, it  _ was  _ harder for them. We had girl engineers and mechanics and medics and all that, and at Iserlohn there were enough civilians. But Greenhill was a soldier, and a woman, and her dad was well known. She had to prove herself. 

When I started paying attention to Attenborough paying attention to Greenhill I started hanging out with her more, inviting her to things, just trying to make life easier for her. I mean, I’m not a famous man’s daughter but I know a thing or two about feeling like people don’t think I belong. She would usually politely decline offers to hang out with drunk pilots, but would join us sometimes. She and Konev got along well. A couple of times we ended up staying up late at her place and, well… She was not my type, really, but she was fun talking to.  _ Everyone  _ knew she had feelings for Yang. Everyone but Yang, of course. She didn’t mind waiting, she said, but she was also frustrated because, well, she “was a  _ woman  _ too”. She said “I can get so jealous of you guys, because I know there is a lot of…”, she was drunk and cute and waved her hands around trying to find appropriate words, “...going on. And it doesn’t  _ mean  _ anything. But you know, if I want to be one of the guys, I can’t act like one of the guys, because if I did I would no longer be one of the guys, and I want to be one of the guys!”. 

You know her now from the official speeches, wearing suits and pearls and heels. But this was years ago, her face was rounder, she was a  _ baby _ ! We’d cuddle, and, well, borderline…. Clothes on stuff. She told me, seriously, she did, that she could do that stuff with me because she did not take me seriously. She knew it didn’t mean anything, but “with Dusty, I’m afraid I’d like him too much if we did something like this”. I was like… Yeah, sure, Dusty is more your type. Then Frederica interrogated me about all the guys I’ve done it with - “Just don’t mention Yang, I’ll find out myself!”. I don’t think I’ve talked about other men’s penises so much in my life as I did that night... she laughed so hard she cried at my impression of Schönkopf. She also reminded me that she will remember  _ all of it _ . We made sure no one saw me leaving. I told her that one day she’d make a useless man really happy. I’m sure she did. Man, it’s so sad how little time they got… and  _ don’t  _ ask me about Yang, by the way. 

So that was Greenhill. But that was just two-three nights like that. We were never really close. She is much hotter now, though. If I met her now, I’d make an effort.

Me and Attenborough, nothing really happened there for a while. And that’s normal, that’s how these things usually go. But this bothered me, because, well… I never really got to do anything? I didn’t even get to touch him. I couldn’t let go of the mystery,  _ when  _ did he get so good at doing it?! I had never ever ever heard a word about him with anyone else. I had always considered him a “once in a while drunkenly with a friend” type of guy. Clearly he wasn’t. No natural talent for being good at things gets you that good without practice. Who? When? The Academy? We kept our whole “banter” thing going on as always, but I found myself at loss for words more than before. I even made a statement about fucking his mom at one point to win an argument, which I’m still embarrassed about. It was not a well placed “your mum”. I knew I had to settle this score somehow. Sex was my thing. I couldn’t let him win. 

It’s not like Attenborough was the only thing on my mind. This was Iserlohn, and there were civilian women, after all, who unlike military girls were not spoiled with being surrounded by men. The Fleet was mostly men after all, and the ones dead were men too, so back on the planets… I managed to get laid out on the  _ missions _ , when you were in the civilian world nobody could  _ possibly  _ have any trouble, if they just wanted to. The women threw themselves at you. Even the ones who were taken, if you showed them some attention… Some soldiers didn’t approve of courting a lady when her man was out fighting, but you know, it’s not like he would be missing anything. As I see it, I’m just doing everyone a service. She’ll just be a happier bride when he returns. And if he doesn’t… Well, it’s peacetime now. And back then, when we were settling down on Iserlohn, there were hundreds of women, who were neither mechanics nor medics, who were looking for adventure and a guy like me.

The briefing I was talking about earlier ended up being foreplay to the whole “let’s invade the Empire” situation. It’s not something people talk much about these days, because, well, not FPA’s proudest moment. So I’m not even sure if people remember it anymore. I’m not happy about piI was looking toward seeing some of the Empire at least. I had never travelled, like,  _ travelled _ . And now the Empire! Some of the Rosen Ritters had been there as kids, but no one had really travelled there for centuries! What was it like? I learned German in school, like everyone else. Badly, like everything else I learned in school. I had seen pictures. What were the ladies like? Did they wear frilly underwear? Were they all uptight and “not until I’m married to a count?”. Or were they just like our girls, starved for male attention? Or, more like, “oh brave FPA soldier, please release me from the oppression and the frilly underpants!”. It was before Merkatz and Schneider joined, so I had no one to ask. So yeah, I was just as mad as everyone else, but also excited. 

Long thing short, we lost and barely managed to escape, I didn’t get a chance with the ladies, but I got a second shot with Attenborough. War is death and battle, but mostly it’s waiting. At some point there was some sort of internal strategic meeting excuse to meet up and get drunk. There were maybe twenty or thirty of us. Konev was there too, being sensible as always. I was getting too drunk to really contribute, so when someone said we needed volunteers to go someplace and fetch something I stood up immediately, only to realise that I had no idea where I was supposed to go and why. Luckily someone else volunteered to show me the way, and I guess I really needed that walk because we were outside of the meeting room when it sunk in that that person was Attenborough. I didn’t really think about settling any scores at that point, but the farther we went the more I knew that this was my chance. I hadn’t  _ done it _ for a week or so at that point, which definitely pushed my mind in the right direction. 

I wanted to make a move, but there was no good opportunity. The only time we weren’t walking was in the bathroom and, ew, no. It took us some time, mostly because of the detour for the nice officers’ bathroom, to find the room with the files, and when we got there we were greeted by two engineers drinking beer and doodling something over a large imperial blueprint. In every corridor, in every staircase, there was someone walking by. This was a ship on her way to war, after all, not a newly taken fortress. On our way back Attenborough said we would take another route and I complied. I had no idea where we were. I started sobering up though and made an attempt to get Attenborough into an argument, but somehow it all just turned into a polite conversation about how we are all going to war and that the both of us were in leadership positions although we were very young, and that could be really challenging… I called him  _ young _ ? How drunk was I?! I started telling him about Ortega, one of the engineers that we ran into earlier. I knew her quite well, she was really good at seeing weaknesses, just had an intuition like that. Every time a new model came out, ours or theirs, she’d just stare at it for two minutes and then point out what would fail - or where to aim. I had really tried to get into her pants, but she turned me down for some reason. 

I was talking to Attenborough and he listened with this polite encouraging expression he normally reserved for people like Greenhill. I got so drawn into it that I was caught completely by surprise when I realised that we were alone in an elevator that just started moving. I had no time to lose. I turned to the panel to get the elevator to stop. Only we were not on Iserlohn anymore and I was not Attenborough with his clearance that could stop elevators for real. I just pushed the emergency stop button. The elevator jerked and stopped. It would also start moving as soon as anyone pushed the button on any level. I turned around.

Attenborough looked at me with those greyish greenish eyes. He looked calm, a bit surprised, a bit curious, but also excited. This time he was not staring me down, it was more like he could not take his eyes off me. His lips moved, his gaze started wandering around down my face, my neck, my body. Yes, my pants were tight. Yes, he probably saw that I was pretty excited too. I didn’t really have a game plan, I never do. If he was a girl, I’d kiss him. But he wasn’t, and if he was a girl I would have made sure to build up more. You know, the talk, and just start touching each other in a natural way, like “oh you have a hair on your shirt”, “oh your arms are so huge can I touch” that sort of thing. And if he was… Let’s say Blumhardt. If he was Blumhardt I’d just grab his crotch and we’d move from there. Everyone knew the moves. But then again, if he was Blumhardt it would have been a spur of the moment, not something I had been thinking about for weeks. 

“You really need to shut up” Attenborough said. 

In basic training training they teach you how to mount a bayonet. Ceremonial bullshit, but you could do it in one beautiful coordinated sequence that you will never forget as long as you’re alive. I could do it now if you woke me up in the middle of the night and gave me an SR-65 and a bayo. That’s how Attenborough moved when he put one hand on my shoulder and pushed me down while unzipping his pants with his other hand. It was smooth and powerful and threatening and beautiful, and yes Sir, I will shut up starting immediately. One moment I was pushing the emergency stop button on the elevator, next I was on my knees with Attenborough’s cock in my face. His cock is tastefully perfect like everything else about that asshole, but back then I didn’t get an opportunity to admire it because he simply showed half the length into my mouth. One moment I was talking about Ortega and next thing I knew I was staring at Attenborough’s pubes, my mouth full of cock. That’s your normal day in the Yang fleet.

It was my turn to show him what I could do, and I did. I licked and I tickled and I swallowed deep. I let my hand work around the shaft, pull his pants lower and cup his balls. I followed his moans. I followed the small changes in the pressure from his hands on my head. I felt his fingers cramp and pull my hair hard as I did that trick where I would kinda moan and at the same time move the root of my tongue against the sensitive side of the tip… it’s hard to explain, but when you nail it the guys lose it. I did this deeper thing for a while, and then I let his cock slide almost all the way out of my mouth. I looked up to see him look back - amazed, curious, excited, just helplessly horny. I held his cock in my hand. He had my head in a steady grip. I smiled. Dusty bit his lip. He pushed his hips against me. I let him slide in again.

I heard him sigh, I heard him moan “Poplinnnh”, he was close, and as much as I wanted to go on, I knew that I just had seconds to turn this from good to spectacular. I let him fuck my mouth for a few thrusts before I felt his grip on my hair tighten and I swallowed him as deep as I could, my tongue moving on the underside, my fingers digging in behind his balls, following the contractions as I heard a moan like he was biting down. I did well. I rose up, drying my hand against the elevator wall. Dusty looked shaken, you couldn’t see the freckles because his cheeks were so flushed, but he buttoned up his pants easily like he did this every night. He looked at me. I looked back. I swallowed. Terror balance restored. We both had shown what we could do, and he did catch me off guard that last time, but I had my moment now. “Oh, you’re friendly with Hortense too” he said. Fuck, wait, what? 

I was startled. It did make sense, of course, him having been with the Cazernes. It made much more sense for him than for me, he was an educated person who could talk about educated things and  _ behave _ . This was not the way I expected to find out, and more importantly, I had no good answer to that. History was repeating itself, Commodore Attenborough had the upper hand, I was speechless, and this time Schönkopf would not get back from the bathroom to save me. He didn’t need to, though. Dusty simply let his hand slide in under my arm, pulled me in and we were face to face. I leaned in and met his lips. We were kissing. His fingers were once again tangled in my hair, his hand not allowing me to pull away if I wanted to. I did not want to pull away. My body moved instinctively to eliminate any distance between him and me, my erection against his groin, my hands on his back, on his ass, the nape of his neck. His tongue in my mouth, while I still tasted like him… I was so hard it hurt, and the tiny part of my brain that still could think was occupied with thoughts of how badly I needed to come and how I could make that happen. 

Then the elevator moved. Someone, on some level, had pushed the button. I pulled away. Attenborough bent down and picked up the folders he dropped on the floor at some earlier point. He gave them to me. “Why me?” I said. “Because you were the one who volunteered to get them” he answered. It made sense. “And I think you need them more than I do” he added, and yes, of course, just as the doors started to slide open I realised that they came in handy for covering up the bulge. On the other side of the door there was a small group of recruits who looked surprised to see us, but immediately saluted and asked where their example setting role models were going. “Level 15” Attenborough said and they joined us for a couple of levels. The elevator must have reeked of sex, I thought, but nobody said a thing. Neither did me nor Dusty did as we went back to the meeting. Back there someone thanked me for getting the folders, Yang called for Attenborough, and Patrichev told me that Konev had finished up all the Spartanian related business so I could go to bed if I wanted to. There was a lot of work for me to do tomorrow, after all. I happily accepted his offer.

I went straight to Konev. He was brushing his teeth as I came in, he must have left just before I arrived. I realised that I had no idea how long Attenborough and I had been gone. Was anyone suspecting anything? Was Ivan? I was not really used to him being awake when I sneaked in, the last thing I needed was another smartass being clever. Konev didn’t look the least surprised when I opened the door, he just gave me the toothpaste and my toothbrush. I watched him walk around in the dim light, brushing his teeth thoroughly, in his underwear, calm and gentle. While I was getting ready for bed, Konev moved a book and a pile of notes from his nightstand. He took out a recovery drink can, clearly intended for me, as well as the green tube of Universal Balm that was, indeed, a really good cure for all kinds of burns and other inconveniences of military life, but also incredible lube. Nothing could throw him off balance, he was worse than Dusty like that. He took his time fucking me that night. In the morning, for once I woke up before him. He was beautiful. He deserved a happy life. I’d sacrifice myself in a heartbeat for him, but I knew that I would probably never have the opportunity. My head was pounding. I picked up the can. 

The rest of the campaign you know about. Many died. I lived. Konev lived. Attenborough lived. Yang lived. Greenhill. Julian. 

Oh, and the Hortense remark that Attenborough made… I had been with her and Cazerne a couple of times when Cazerne called me over to his office one day and said we had some business to discuss. I almost got scared, actually, because I thought he meant work things. Like maybe we were out of brandy and it was my fault… I don’t know really what threat he would pose, but professionally he was intimidating. When I came to his office at Iserlohn I was prepared to defend myself and my whole squad if needed. Instead he said that he was a busy man and sometimes had to work more than his wife would appreciate. Now, apparently, he and his wife had enjoyed my company, and since I wasn’t a  _ threat  _ he wanted to know if I would be ok with occasionally spending time with his wife without him. I had never done anything like that before, so I wasn’t sure how to act, but I said something polite about how that would be a pleasure. 

I had family dinners with the Cazernes on and off for a year or two, and sometimes I would just meet Hortense. Then Alex came across my medical records and told me that if I ever got close to his wife again he’d… I don’t remember how he threatened me but as I said, he could be intimidating. He was overreacting, if you ask me. There were always meds, and it’s not like I was the only one who ever caught something. It was good while it lasted though. When I was just seeing Hortense, there would not be any fancy dinners, but she could let me swing by their place, maybe fix a leaking faucet or whatever… Spend some time with the girls. It was nice being around a normal family like that, I never had it growing up. That made me want to have kids one day. But mostly, when it was just me and Hortense, I’d sneak in after the girls’ bedtime, and sneak out in the morning. Hortense, she was not just great at doing it. You could actually talk about sex with her too, and learn stuff.

Like, she was the one who made me really get that women had buttholes too. I mean, of course it’s obvious, they are right  _ there _ . But before her, I always assumed that if there is a pussy, that’s what you work with. And if there’s no pussy then you go for the ass because that’s the next best thing, but there’s no point in touching a woman there because she has a pussy, right? But if it’s nice for a guy go get their butt fucked or fingered or licked or whatever, why not for a woman? Simple, right, but never really crossed my mind before I met Hortense. And it’s not just because there were three of us, like, “double entry bookkeeping” was funny but it’s not like we normally did it. It’s not that important to me to stick it in a hole, you know, it’s not what sex is about to me. What I’ve told you about Attenborough so far, there is no one fucking no one. And it was still  _ hot _ , right? Same with women, it’s just not that important to me, I guess. Try telling that to Schönkopf.

Hortense was great at a lot of things, but first time I was with her and Alex, what she did with her mouth was just… mmmh... She was  _ special _ . I told them and they both laughed, like of course they knew that she was great. The first time it was just me and her, Hortense asked if there was anything special I wanted to do. I said “look, I’ve been around, but it’s clear that so have you, so if you could maybe teach me some things?”. Hortense just laughed and said she’d be happy to assist. She undressed for me slowly while I told her about all the things I wanted to learn. She was obviously into the whole teacher act, but man did she get eager to show me how to suck dick. I guess… well, I mean it’s obvious, that she thought guy on guy was crazy hot. She’d show me and then I’d go and do it with a dude, she was really into it. She gave me a master class, front row, she’d show and then she’d explain how she did it. Let me try with her fingers in my mouth to see if I did it right. She kept me on the edge forever and when I came she made quite a show of swallowing. 

I paid back by eating her out for an hour at least. She made it clear that she was used to getting eaten well, like sometimes when Alex went home for lunch, he didn’t really have the time to eat  _ lunch _ . I tried my best. Hortense was giving me instructions sometimes, and I was grateful but I could teach her a thing or two as well. She was shaking and laughing and crying, we were both laughing. She begged me to fuck her, and after a while I did. Her pussy and ass were all wet and slippery. My face was wet and slippery. Our kisses were wet and slippery. We collapsed in a wet, slippery, sweaty, laughing, exhausted pile. I slipped out of the Cazernes’ quarters. I thought it would be weird to see Alex the day after, but it wasn’t at all. Hortense, like I said, made you feel incredible, but also made you feel like her husband was incredible. 

Getting laid those years, you didn’t always have the time to really take your time. Sometimes, if it was a buddy thing, you kinda did it between getting drunk and passing out in your bunk. Sometimes you’d simply be exhausted... you’d turn up at a girl’s and your whole body would be sore, and she’d say she had to do it with the lights off because she’d seen enough bodies today and not in a good way. Or you would have oceans of time because you were travelling to the battlefield and there was nothing to do but wait, but you’d also know you both would probably be dead in two weeks. Or sometimes you had time and nobody was trying to kill you, but I didn’t really want to be tied up you know? If I’d be dead in a year, why would I spend that time with just one woman? 

Hortense, she didn’t take me seriously, so we could meet for a while and I could take my time getting to know her body. She had an amazing body too. I could stay between her thighs for hours, just studying the folds. I thought it was so amazing that she’d had kids. Not that you could tell, but  _ knowing…  _ Call me crazy, but her being a mother really turned me on. I’ve always liked mature women, after all. She was really hot to begin with, Alex was a lucky guy to have a babe like that fall for him. At first I thought it was kinda weird that he wanted to watch someone else fuck his wife. But one time I needed to take a break so I just watched them keep going and maaaan… Knowing all those movements and expressions she does, and seeing it all at once… not having to do anything, you can just watch and enjoy and really focus on her. And well, Alex wasn’t bad either back in the day. Me neither, I guess, so I could see why he just wanted to watch sometimes. 

Alex and I didn’t do much with each other, it all mostly revolved around Hortense. He was good though, when we did. The arrangement worked great until the damn records came up. It was clear I wasn’t the only person they’d done it with, but Hortense told me I was a favourite. We talked a bit about the others. “Schönkopf was good, you know” she smiled that way she did when she thought about something sexy, she had that expression when she was in her teaching mode too sometimes, “but…. he always has to…”. “Win?” I suggested, and she burst out laughing, her naked body shaking against mine, my hand starting to move between her thighs, laughter soon softening up into short moans. Poor Schönkopf, Hortense would never ever let him think he was better than Alex. Damn records. Damn medic. I never dared to ask Hortense about Attenborough. I guess that I was afraid she’d say that it was too easy to like him. I hope they took care of Frederica after Yang. 

Look, sorry, I just have to make this clear... it comes off like I never liked Schönkopf. I really did, we were friends. We were always those two guys who didn’t sleep in their own beds. It was a standing joke, and true too. But at the same time, we were really different with the ladies. The same way that we were different people, he was more proud, and really concerned with his  _ manliness _ . I didn’t mind, but I wish I didn’t get to see the way he was an immature prick around Karin. I say, if you don’t use protection then you take care of your kid. I know a thing or two about growing up with no dad. Karin was lucky she could get to a place where troubled kids could find purpose, and he would still not even acknowledge her. He treated it like a joke, just laughed it off. He must have had other children as well. Karin got to Iserlohn, but what happened to the others? I wish I never got to see that side of him. Other than that, he was great. We were different, but he was great. 

After the second elevator incident, Attenborough and I had other things to focus on for a while. Killing people. Amritsar. Saving politician ass again. Being back on Iserlohn, I guess I was relieved. The women, the relative safety, the slight chance that the government would chill for a bit after that. At the same time, there was resentment in the air for sure. Schönkopf talked more openly about how  _ someone  _ should get more credit and power, thankfully he still just talked to his closest friends. Wouldn’t have looked so great with the coup that happened pretty much immediately afterwards. Or did it? Yeah, must have been. I was not as eager to prove myself to Attenborough anymore, but I wouldn’t say I was  _ indifferent _ . After I started paying attention to him I couldn’t really stop. I got to be straight here, on the one rare occasion when I was left to my own devices before going to sleep, I caught myself thinking about Attenborough. 99% of my time, though, I was busy thinking about troops, letting Ortega fix battery leaks, Hortense Cazerne and Apfelkorn. 

Apfelkorn was bravely plundered during the invasion and by an accident arranged, I’m sure, by Cazerne, a container was sent to Iserlohn. That was what was serving at Bar on Five and one night Patrichev was working on finding the perfect balance of apple schnapps, brandy, black tea and orange juice concentrate. The rest of us acted as judges and we were generally favorable. Maybe because drinking Apfelkorn straight drove you crazy after a week. Maybe because Patrichev was an actual genius. Maybe because we had ice. Whatever the reason, we worked our way through several bottles of raw material, the spirits were elevated and there was a girl whose door I could knock on any time of the night. Of course, I ended up not knocking on her door that night. I’m sure she found a good replacement. 

There were a lot of us, people moving back and forth between the tables. Greenhill was there, I remember Attenborough talking to her and Yang and from the look of it trying to get them both to relax and then invent an excuse to leave them alone. About a dozen Rosen Ritters showed up. I started working out with them a while ago and we talked about requesting better equipment from Cazerne. I don’t know how Imperial soldiers stayed in shape, but the gyms they left behind were a disaster. So it was a really fun night until the Ritters decided it was time to sing. Those guys were great to party with but there was always this moment when they started singing in German. If you didn’t want to spend an hour or two listening to something about  _ bruderschaft  _ and  _ herzen  _ you had better get out of there. Attenborough came up to me and asked “do you want to go to my place, I have  _ not Apfelkorn _ ”. Of course I wanted to. We grabbed a bowl of ice and headed to the elevator. 

Attenborough was my superior and his quarters, though tiny, contained a couch and a coffee table. The walls were covered in faux tapestry that surely made imperial officers feel like home. There was a desk covered in books, notepads, and what looked like a photo of a large family behind a pile of cost reports. I looked more closely while Dusty washed two glasses and poured us some brownish liquor. The bottle looked like a tower and the liquid tasted like death. 

“I got this from one of my sisters”, he said. “It’s a local thing”. 

I tasted it again and shuddered. “Exquisite”. 

Dusty laughed. “Yeah, I’m saving it for special occasions”.

I asked if his sister was in the photo, and he pulled out the frame from behind the documents and put it on his desk. It was a wedding picture and I could see Attenborough looking silly in a suit close to the couple. He had to lean in a bit to point at the people in the photo. It turned out that that he had a bunch of older sisters, and the children next to the couple were his nieces and nephews. “Do they all have names?” I asked. “Yeah”, he replied, “and birthdays too”. He pointed at different kids and said names that I immediately forgot. The bride was a babe, and there was definitely some family resemblance. Attenborough in the photo looked like an idiot my age. Attenborough in the room was standing next to me, close enough for me to feel his movements, and made my heart beat faster.

He moved away. “You can kick off your shoes and undress all you like. I think I live next to the heating station, it always gets hot in here. I write in my underwear.”. He was bending over to undo his shoelaces… I have never ever been that flexible in my life, must be something they teach them in admiral school.  _ And  _ talking about undressing and things getting hot... Was he, or was he not..? One thing I knew for sure - the poison his sister gave him went straight to your brain. Attenborough kicked off his shoes, hung up his jacket, untied the scarf and tie and unbuttoned the top buttons on the shirt collar. I did what he did. With his shirt neatly tucked into the pants his legs looked even longer. Damn!

He poured us more local sister poison and salvaged some ice from the bowl that now was one third water. We sat down on the couch and talked about the night. There were some rumours about Linz having a girlfriend. Yang and Greenhill were still being clueless. Patrichev had read in a book that back on Terra it was customary to give lemons to sailors to avoid some disease, so he had asked Cazerne if we could request lemon trees for Iserlohn greenhouses, and Cazerne said he’d try. I told Attenborough about gym problems and he asked me to add more treadmills to the list if we would file an official request. “They are always taken now”, he put his drink down and started unbuttoning the remaining buttons. Good move, the room was terribly hot. Under the dress shirt he was wearing a tank top, still looking fresh even though you could see his collarbone was getting damp. “You run?” I asked, following his example with the buttons. “Yeah, helps me get my mind off of things”, he said, dress shirt unbuttoned to the waist but still tucked into his pants. I kept unbuttoning and decided to just get the dress shirt off. It would come off anyway and I looked good in a t-shirt. 

“Maybe I should try running”, I said pulling the shirt completely off and throwing it in the direction of my shoes. Attenborough actually looked impressed seeing me in something tight for a change. “it’s not like you need it”, he pointed his glass in my direction, “I don’t think it’s possible for you to think even less”. “You know what they say about guys who don’t think too much” I said and raised my glass. 

We drank nodding to each other. I was leaning back on the couch, my right arm wrapped around the back of the couch, left arm trying not to touch Attenborough who was mirroring me on the other side. We were knee to knee and it felt like I could feel the heat of his body through just that square inch of contact. My t-shirt was clinging to my body, I could feel the sweat run down my neck, I probably had sweat patches in my armpits and on my chest already. “You should just take your t-shirt off”, Attenborough said, like he was giving me thoughtful advice. “I look good in a t-shirt”, I replied, and I swear, Attenborough  _ nodded _ , “I’m meeting a girl later tonight”. Attenborough shrugged, “I don’t think you are”. My heart skipped a beat. “Perhaps I’m not”, I agreed, “but then you need to offer me something better than...”, I pointed at the souvenir bottle. 

“Of course”. Attenborough sat straight up from his relaxed position. At first I thought that he was going to get some nice brandy, but instead he leaned in towards me, his face close to mine, grabbed my t-shirt around my waist and pulled it up. Instinctively, I put my hands over my head, and my eyes were still covered when Attenborough started kissing me. This time, he didn’t taste like a fancy restaurant, but still nicer than he deserved. I kissed back, throwing my t-shirt away, trying to get him out of whatever was between me and his chest. The room was hot. I was hot. Attenborough was cool. His hands were sliding over my neck, my shoulders, my arms. As I said, I worked out with the Rosen Ritter guys back then, I knew he could  _ feel  _ it even if he didn’t look. I pulled him closer, he straddled me on the sofa, I knew that right now we could take our time and do whatever we wanted, as long as we pretended this all happened because we were drunk. Like there was no planning.

Once he was naked over the beltline, my hands were free to pull him in. We were kissing so hard our teeth collided and we had to pull away before diving in again and staying so close it felt like CPR training… like you are breathing each other’s breath… it doesn’t sound sexy at all now that I said it, but back then we practiced CPR all the time. It was not an  _ unsexy  _ thing, it was just  _ a thing _ . Back then, when kissing got really passionate, I could think “this feels like CPR” and it felt good. You knew it was hot when it was like CPR. Hortense and I got to CPR levels, and man… And well, back to Attenborough, on the couch, in my lap, me pushing him so close I could feel his erection against my stomach while he struggled to get his hand to my crotch. For some reason - It wasn’t that I was not turned on - Not much was happening over there. I hoped he wouldn’t make a thing out of it. To distract Attenborough I put my palm against his groin and he moaned right into my mouth. He was rubbing his cock against my hand and pulling my hair extra hard while I unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned the fly. His whole body was moving as one single… body. It was just all connected, the way his hips moved, kisses intensified, the way he held me. All of him was  _ there _ . I wanted all of him.

I made sure to hold Dusty close, and he understood what I was going for even before I started moving, his legs wrapping tight around my waist. There was no way he’d be able to lift me like that, it was kinda hard for me too, but I managed to stand up in a single movement, kick away the coffee table, walk a few steps and throw him onto the bed. He hit his head. No one cared. If he had neighbours, that was his problem. I kissed his neck, collarbone, chest, I moved lower and he buried his fingers in my hair and pushed me down, just determined enough to show he didn’t want me to get too distracted on the way. I didn’t let myself get too carried away exploring. I’m a simple guy after all. Four hands made sure he was completely stripped and I could focus on the cock.

I was on the floor, Dusty was on the bed, I had my mouth full, he made a lot of noise out of it. Dusty was arching his back, I worked his shaft with my hand, my tongue on his balls. I really wanted to go all in and make him forget his name, but when someone's ass is in your face like this, you  _ kinda  _ want to be careful too. For everyone’s sake. Nobody was prepared, you know, no time to shower and stuff. I decided, I start with the fingertips and see where it gets me. I’m pretty good at this kind of thing, actually. The trick is to stay outside for longer than you think you need. First of all, just that is enough to make a grown up man cry, if you do it right. Second, once they are ready to open up, they’ll show you.

I couldn’t see much of Dusty, but I could hear him, I could feel him move, I could definitely feel him twist his body a bit to search for something in his nightstand. I reached out and there it was, Dusty handing me the green Balm tube. I didn’t see that it was green, but it feels different than the disinfectant and all the other stuff in the first aid kit. I’ve heard they used the same tubes for everything before, but people kept mixing up the lube with the rest so they had to change it to prevent more injuries. Never check a good story, as Attenborough used to say. I didn’t even let my mouth slide off his cock. I just opened the tube, squeezed out some of the content onto my fingers and started to pulse my fingers against his ass while he let himself glide onto them. Fuck I knew I’d fuck him so hard when he was done. I was so fucking hard by then. I felt him around my fingers, open and willing, and I knew that I wouldn’t last long.

Neither did Dusty. I felt him pull the bedcover when his back arched, he pushed himself into my mouth, onto my fingers, moaning through his teeth. I wanted to get my cock out of my pants so much that I didn’t let him shoot all the rounds before I got my mouth off his cock. I got some of his cum on my face, but I didn’t really notice. I was too busy unzipping and pulling down and getting my socks off. The next time I really looked at Dusty, I was leaning over him, his face and chest were flushed, he was sweaty, his hair stuck to his brow, the look in his eyes as eager as I felt. He pulled me in and rubbed lube over my cock. His touch felt so amazing I dropped all my plans. I didn’t want to fuck him anymore if that meant his hands would stop touching me. I leaned in and kissed him only to be reminded of the sticky cum in my face, but we just kept kissing, and he kept sliding his hands over me, and I kept moaning into his mouth until I came all over his chest. At least I had the sense to support myself with a knee on the bed so that I didn’t collapse onto him into the mess I just made. I looked at him. Sticky, sweaty, smiling, he lay there looking back at me. Time to move. He started rising, and I started looking for my pants.

“I’d offer you the couch”, Dusty said friendly, “but it’s reserved for my hopes and dreams”. I said it was cool, I was going home anyway. I found my boxers and pointed at the bathroom. “Can I wash my hands?” I asked. “And your face”, Dusty replied. His bathroom was tidy, like he had never once thrown up in there. He had a good razor. He asked me if it was alright if he hit the shower while I was getting dressed. I said “yeah, go ahead”. “See you at work”, Attenborough said, closing the bathroom door. I almost replied “we should do this again sometime”, but stopped myself. I said “Tell your sister she really found the perfect drink for your personality”.

It’s weird that I can remember so many details about those few times. I’ve done it with, I’m not bragging, hundreds of people. I don’t even think I can remember every person. With people that I’ve had a longer thing with, I can remember specific situations, but everything blurs together too. Like I could describe some mornings with Ivan, but most of it melts together. Not in a bad way, but I couldn’t describe every time we did it as clearly as I have now. Same with Attenborough. I remember these first times because they were so different from everything else, and because I was thinking about him so much . I don’t usually think too much, but he really got under my skin in the elevator the first time… Or before the elevator, when he kissed me. Anyway, after this, the tension was gone, I could relax around him again. I still wanted to fuck him a bit too much, but I knew it would happen, so I didn’t worry about it. Plus, there was other stuff going on in my life. The coup. The Cazernes. Oil leaks. So many ladies of Iserlohn had sat on my face that I got a rash, and was annoyed until Konev kindly reminded me that this was what Universal Balm was originally intended for. And every few weeks or so, Attenborough and I had a good reason to go to his place, just the two of us.

As I said, it's all a blur, but there were patterns,  _ our things _ . There was always some weird drink involved. When we were done with the tower, he found a glass boot, then a pink bottle that tasted like baby food mixed with moonshine, or something with a hat. Attenborough found all kinds of studpid booze, I never asked how, I’d just assume his sisters had their reasons. For a while we got into a pattern where I would blow him and then fuck him, because, man… I hate to say it out loud, but he was young back then. A runner too, this kind of lean build, long legs. In our business, you showered together with other guys a lot, so normally, the guys I’d done it with, I’d seen them naked before. There was no shortage of good looking men in the Ritter gym showers, if that was your thing. I hadn’t seen Attenborough naked before the… sex, and he wasn’t flaunting his physique exactly, so I had never considered his body before… He had freckles on his shoulders too, you know. And was flexible, crazy flexible, you never had to think “will this position be awkward”, you could just move freely and everything worked. I was strong too, both had stamina, that  _ helped _ . Mmmh.

Oh, and after a while, I realised that this thing, me blowing then fucking, it was just Attenborough playing me because he could come a second time. He was smart. I remember when I got it, It was like being back in the elevator. It’s not that I’m against someone coming more than I do, I was just against Attenborough being clever. Next time I got my hands on him, it was actually not even the usual late night drinking. He got home after a run, and maybe quarter of an hour later, I knocked, he opened fresh out of the shower, I said I had work business, walked in, pulled his towel off, threw him over the armrest, ate his ass forever,  _ then  _ I fucked him, then I left. Met him in a corridor two hours later. He saluted. I saluted. The sex got more varied after that. 

This was pretty much how things were between me and Attenborough before Vermillion. As I said, there was a lot of other stuff going on. Sure, we got more used to each other after a while, but not too close. We’d still meet once a month or so, and still make it look accidental, and I would go to my quarters. Sometimes I’d go to Konev afterwards. Fuck, yeah, when Vermillion happened, and Konev… As soon as I had time to be devastated... With war going on, even after a battle, you still didn’t really have to  _ feel  _ if you didn’t want to. You could always think about how you could get killed tomorrow. You didn’t  _ have  _ to mourn. But now, Konev was dead and the war was over. I don’t remember the circumstances at all, I just remember that Attenborough asked me if I wanted to crash at his. I said yes. I fell asleep in his bunk. When I woke up the room was cold, there was a cover thrown over me, Dusty was sleeping on the floor, fully dressed, peacefully like we weren’t all screwed. He hadn’t touched me, just let me sleep it all off. I sneaked out of his quarters.

It turned out the war wasn’t over. 

Well, that was Vermillion. Then we were hiding in a cursed place of no women. I was so used to Iserlohn, I had forgotten what weeks of no female companionship do to a man. I followed Julian and Machungo to Terra, where there were no women either. Then Odin, and this time Schneider had prepared me a bit so I knew how frilly underwear worked. Hah… Good times. This was the first time I got to  _ see the world, _ outside of space ships and military bases. It was great. Gave me a taste for more for sure. Coming back to Iserlohn felt good too, like I think coming home to your family is to people. I had missed them. Attenborough too. Not him  _ specifically _ , but all of them, and he was a part of  _ all of them _ . First time we hung out after I was back, I think there was just the usual crowd drinking whatever Lutz left behind, and then Attenborough asked if I wanted to go to his place because he had “rum from a shady cellar in Dalgopol”. Do you know where Dalgopol is? Lucky you, keep not knowing. Anyway, of course I followed. He had the rum. He also had new quarters. A whole bar cabinet. Nicer tapestry. Bigger bed.

Everything was just like before, but not at all. It was us, all of us, back on Iserlohn, but it was a different war now, not the one we’d waged for 150 years. Everything was different. I liked it different, I get bored easily. It brought all of us closer together as well. Me and Dusty, but all of us as well. There were fewer women, still a million or so, but I remember people telling me to please inform them when I was on my second round. Ortega was back. Karin was there, she was a handful but not in  _ that  _ way… I like mature women, remember? The arborist, I keep forgetting her name, the one who first arrived when they had planted the lemons was back. Her teenage sons went M.I.A. in Vermillion, so she was equally pissed at FPA and the Empire. Got married, started a new family, but not with me, obviously. The Cazernes were there, but this was after Alex found my medical records, so if I was invited to a dinner, it was dinner only. Too bad, Alex had a lot on his hands. Lucky for me, there were many other women with a passion for democracy. 

I was at the big boy table, and it was way more fun now that we were revolutionaries. It was way too formal for my tastes before when you needed things approved all the time. There was no one upstairs now, just us. I got more responsibilities, and you know what I think about responsibilities, but I can do it if I see the point. I saw the point. Besides, my friends depended on me. Cazerne was a pain in the ass, but now that we worked close together I had to admit he had a point every now and again. I told my men to stop the races, Cazerne got us paint for the Spartanians, the fresh ones got to customise theirs. I got to see Attenborough working too, and I… It was the  _ ease _ . He made everything he did look easy, but now that I saw more of what he actually was  _ doing _ . He was good. Clever. He could use what he learned at the Academy and still think like a soldier. I admired that.

Because we worked more together, we started seeing each other more as well. Once a week or so, maybe. I could have gotten a better place, there was plenty of room, but I kept my old quarters. I wanted to stay close to the pilots. I mean, the Rosen Ritter were great, everyone in the command room was great, but I’m a pilot. I fly. How could I set a good example if I had lived far off, with tapestries? Not that I slept in my own bed that much, but still. And because Attenborough had moved, it wasn’t just a couple of flights between us anymore. One night, it was a good night, we were mixing Imperial bubbles with one of the sister brews, and we kept doing it, and kissing, and drinking, and getting hard again… how?! How did that work?! The true miracles of Miracle Yang Fleet. It’s not like he asked me to stay over, but he didn’t tell me to leave either.

He never asked me to read the stuff he wrote either. At some point he stopped tidying up his desk when I came over. So I guess the first time I read his stuff was when he was in the shower and I had time to kill. First times I read his stuff that he saw, I mocked everything I read. Of course.

When Yang died... I’m not going to go through all of my past now. But I’ve been through bad shit, even before I enlisted. This was the only time I really  _ lost it _ . I don’t even know for sure how many days it lasted… until Julian and Attenborough suddenly were there… I don’t even know how they got in. Did they knock? Could Attenborough unlock the door because he was my superior? Or could Attenborough unlock the door because he was Dusty and I had given him access? I don’t remember. I… You know, sometimes I wonder how Dusty got out of taking over the command? He must have been the first choice when Yang… I get that he didn’t  _ want  _ it, but I’d like to see how he wiggled out of it. With ease and elegance, I bet. I’ve always wanted to know, but I never asked because I was too embarrassed to talk about that time. When Konev died, Attenborough took care of me. When Yang died, I was just thinking about myself. I mean, we all missed Yang. We all did. But to Attenborough, he was a friend. It was personal. And I just… It's embarrassing.

After that, I was  _ really  _ at the big boy table. And me and Attenborough, it felt like we were together all the time. Kind of like Schönkopf and me were together all the time. Or me and Julian… oh, and me and Julian have never done anything like that, he was a kid, remember? I explained some stuff to him, of course, Karin is probably secretly thanking me. Karin and I talked a lot too, she was really angry at Walter and I don’t blame her. He was acting like a kid. He was as old as I am now, pretty much, but treating his child as a joke. Like it was her job to meet him halfway. Fuck, she had just lost her mother? I hope he at least intended to make things right, you know. Well, this is not about my dad, this is about Attenborough, right?

I kept sleeping over. After a while there was, somehow, a purple toothbrush next to Dusty’s, and it was mine. I borrowed his razor. He was annoyed. I kept using it. I still buy Sphynx, that was when I got hooked. Once we were talking at lunch, and he asked if I would come to his place later. I didn’t have other plans, so I said yes. After a while, I started asking him too. Sometimes he’d say no. We could kiss in elevators, and later that night I’d go to a girl and feel, you know, hot. Confident. It was like being with Hortense, he made me feel great about myself. I would come to him after gym and he’d rub my shoulders. I would read stuff he wrote, and laugh when it was pretentious. He’d tell me about books he read, and sometimes I’d borrow one. We kissed sober. He asked me about the Spartanians and I let him try our simulator, in the middle of the night when no one could see us. He had not tried that since the first year of the Academy. He was… not  _ terrible _ . My quarters were actually closer this time, so we went there. I told him about every rookie mistake he made. He listened while playing with my cock until I couldn’t talk anymore.

He was  _ fun _ , you know. You never knew what he was up to. If you know him today, he probably comes off all serious? I haven’t met him in years, but I can imagine. But he was also running a revolution based on whim. He’d taunt me about Iserlohn ladies in public, hours after I left his bed. He’d let me pay back by taunting him about being a bachelor. Or he’d do crazy sex shit, like, I would walk in, and he’d be at his desk, and hardly even look my way, but tell me to get undressed… just tell me what to do, basically, and he’d barely look at me, but it was so hot, and when he told me to come, I’d come that  _ instant _ . He was always paying attention. Or he’d be drunk and climb up on things and write elaborate insults in German all over Iserlohn. The Rosen Ritters were impressed. Not at the climbing, anyone could climb high and write shit, we all did. But his German was good, apparently. And when it wasn’t good, it was creative. Karin was impressed too when she saw what he wrote on a pillar next to the pool. “Admiral Atenborough did that?” she asked. I said yeah, and she looked at me like it was my accomplishment somehow. 

It’s a damn pity we had to leave him behind when we stormed the Brunhilde. He deserved to be there. But then again, what could he have done there in heavy armour? Run? He wasn’t useless from the neck down, but still…

When we were on our way to Fezzan, we shared a suite. I heard we both asked for it, independently, both asked for a good selection in the bar too. Both of us had all our possessions with us, everything that was important. Attenborough had all of his notebooks. He read to me from some of his old diaries, from ‘98 and ‘96, and even before, before I knew him well. So many people were still alive in the nineties, and I didn’t even know they existed. Wen-li was still just a name to me then. We read diaries, worked our way through the bar, were up all night, talked about the future of democracy with Julian… that was mostly Attenborough... got to know the Imperial guys, I found the nurses, all was good. When everything was over, Julian got his revenge and his girl, Keiser was dead, I told Dusty I was leaving. “What are you gonna do?” he asked. I told him that maybe I’d become a pirate. “You can borrow my costume” he said. Time for a fresh start. The war was over.

I stayed on Fezzan. The first year or so, I mostly… I don’t want to go into the details, but I did odd jobs, met a lot of people. Fezzani girls, they are… everything. They’ve had peace for a while, they don’t just throw themselves at you just because you are a man, you have to  _ work  _ for it. So I did. They were all over me. I went to all kinds of places with all kinds of people. Money was not an issue to many. After a while, I started missing flying, so I started taking odd missions here and there. It was nice to be out in the open again, and get away from some shit on the ground too. Too much fun can… I’d seen it before, I know when it’s time to leave. So I flew here and there for a while back in… 803? What’s that in Imperial? Why do they always have to invent a new calendar? Anyway, doesn’t matter, I flew some missions, cargo, passengers. Loved the flying, didn’t love taking orders. I didn’t really want to be a pirate either. I know I said it, and it seemed like fun... But after everything I’ve been through, I got too soft I guess. I met a lot of those people on Fezzan, and I support plundering the Empire, you know I do, but some of the other things… I’ve done enough killing, and I never killed civilians, so I wasn’t about to start.

Talked about that with Boris, we hung out sometimes, still do. He said he’d introduce me to a ship owner I might get along with. Legal, but not too legal. He said something about a “Yemi”, and I asked if that was the name of the ship, and he said that the ship was called the Korobeinik and that Yemi Safi was the name of the owner. I asked if she was beautiful, of course... but Boris, being Ivan’s cousin, was way ahead of me in being smart. “She  _ is _ ,  _ and  _ you won’t fuck it up, because you two have one huge interest in common”. I met Yemi a week later. She was smart, and funny, and I see what Boris was thinking setting me up with a lesbian, because things would not get messy between us.

Yemi is a beauty, of course, you’ve seen her. But if I ever learned anything from Yang, it’s not to engage when you can’t win. So I didn’t. We got along great. She brought in the missions, I flew them. Sometimes she’d join, especially for the passenger flights. Turned out we had different types… I didn’t think I had a type, but I do, apparently. She likes the girly ones more, and I let her because she kept them occupied and I could focus on my thing. And yeah, well, we worked well, we talked a lot, she made sure I had fun routes to work, I made sure Koro didn’t get caught… one night we were just sitting, talking, and one thing led to another, there we were. I thought she liked only women, and she said it was pretty much the case, but… she shrugged it off, and who am I to judge. 

Then it happened again, and again. Then I wanted her on all of our missions, all of a sudden. And she made sure she was. We didn’t sleep together every night, but most of the nights. She’d sing in the shower. I did push ups with her on my back. And then I did this… There are no excuses. NO. I said before I’m still ashamed of how I acted when Yang… well, this is maybe not as bad, or maybe it’s worse… Anyway, I got off the pill. For the first time since I was fifteen, I wasn’t taking it. It was almost like I kept forgetting to stop, I was so used to taking it every day, no matter what. I wasn’t sure if Yemi was taking anything, but I suspected she didn’t because,  _ well…  _ It was not cool, I know, but I had never felt like that about a girl before, I was over thirty, it was something primal, you know? I can’t really explain it. I knew she could take it away so it’s not like I left her with no choices, but I’m not sure if I’m just making excuses. Anyway, I got off the pill. And I didn’t tell Yemi.

Six weeks later, she realised what had happened. First she got mad. Well, yeah… I didn’t try to persuade her or anything. She said she’d book a doctor appointment first thing when we landed. I told her I forgot, that I messed up. She believed me. Was mad still. When she realised, it was eighteen days away from our destination. I know, I counted. The first nine, she was mad, then she didn’t talk to me for a few days. It was a cargo run, so she had no one else to talk to. Neither had I. Five nights before landing she said we needed to talk. She said, pretty much: “I don’t believe in fate, but I don’t usually like men and maybe liking you was meant for this”. Then she asked me if I wanted the baby to be  _ my  _ baby, like, she’d have the baby but I would take care of it. I said yes at once. I had my time to think as well.

I didn’t have much of a family, and I never thought I’d have a shot. When I looked at the Cazernes, I knew I’d never have that. All of it. I didn’t really want a wife, even if she was Hortense, and I can not imagine a better wife. But, kids, that was a different story. And I knew that if I was ever to become a father, I’d be  _ there _ . It’s not just about me or Karin. It’s kids like Julian too, or every other kid with a picture of their dad wearing a uniform, from before that time when he didn’t make it back. Being dead, or being stationed somewhere… it will still hurt your kids, but at least you have a good excuse. There are no other good excuses. Ok, being dead from illness is good too. Fuck, yeah, this gets me really upset. I just mean, I was going to be a dad, really be a dad.

Next six months, Yem and I flew all over the galaxy. We needed to make enough money to take a break. It was amazing, I missed having a purpose like that. Yemi was making crazy deals, planning one impossible route after the other. I flew. Yemi was changing all the time, and crazy hot too. She didn’t always feel like doing it, but when she was in the mood… Maaan, everything about her was amazing. The folds, the curves, the boobs, she smelled… mhhh! We found new ways of doing it, because we  _ had  _ to, and it was like exploring space together... It was like being back in the Fleet, I worked constantly and the second I was off I was hard and sex was the only thing on my mind. The preg service too, the foot baths, the backrubs, the night snacks… Have you ever tried to explain to someone that you are a week away from where they sell cherry cereal?! Had to ask passengers for snacks. She was so round, I called her “Iserlohn”. Yemi didn’t love it. She didn’t love “Geiesburg” either, I tried to explain that it was smaller… I just wanted to touch her all the time.

We stayed on Theoria, rented a really nice apartment, the best I’ve ever paid for myself. It was the first time I’ve been at the seaside. Everything was delicious, and the natural light… You get used to it after a while. First days on a planet, it’s always weird that you can’t control the light. Then it just feels really natural, relaxing… Good hospital, I had talked to people, and Yem had, so we were taken care of. I thought war had prepared me for pain and screaming, but… Ok, so you might know about how pregnancies and all that works. I didn’t really have a connection to that before Yemi. When I talk to civilians, they seem to know more. I guess that's what people were doing when I was out. Having babies. When there were the three of us… me, Yemi, Sonya… things felt real. Normally, a lof of the times, they didn’t. They did now.

When I was there, with Yemi, with this tiny slimy… She couldn’t do  _ anything _ , not hold her head up, nothing. I knew I’d die for her. I knew right away. I asked Yemi if she had any ideas for names, and Yemi just named some exes that were off the table. Sonya is Ivan’s grandma or something, that is what he would be called if he was a girl. Boris freaked out when he heard. First because I did mess things up, despite his plan. Then because it’s his grandma too and apparently he’d also be Sonya if he was a girl. Good for the Konevs that Yemi had never dated a Sonya. I haven’t either, I think. 

We stayed on Theoria for a few months. It’s all a blur of Yemi looking amazing, me getting no sleep, diapers, and bottles and getting stuff to settle. Then Yemi got us some easy routes. We moved back to Koro. I got new lodging, two rooms and a hotplate. We got a hypno bed too, but it’s not like I got any sleep anyway. I carried Sonya around all the time, I was so scared something would happen. I fell asleep near an asteroid belt once, but Sonya started crying and woke me up just in time. That was the first time she laughed, when we flew through it.

Yemi and I were at it on and off, but then she said that she wasn’t into me like that anymore… It’s a good thing really, or else I might have stuck with her forever, and that’s not my style. She’s dating our auditor now, it’s good for business. I thought I’d have to kiss sex goodbye for some years when Sonya came, but it turned out that a kid is a lady magnet. Especially when we do the fun runs, you know, the riskier ones. The ladies have three sets of fake papers, claim their name is Alisa von Laserschmitt or something, they’ll outcheat you in any game, they’ve been everywhere, they’ve seen it all, but they’ve never seen a hot single dad before. Can’t get enough of me. Keep giving Sonya jewelry too. Some of it is fake of course, a lot is just stolen. I think Sonya’s jewelry box is starting to become the most expensive item onboard, including the engine. 

This was about the time I started hearing from the old crowd. The first couple of years, I really didn’t want to get dragged back into it, had no idea what was going on. I mean, I knew what I saw in the news, mostly official stuff, Frederica shaking hands with the Keiserin, Julian and Karin getting married, government stuff from Ba’alat, you know. Attenborough was the only one I maybe knew more about, because he was in the newspapers, with his column in the Star. He was good, you know, he always wrote about boring issues in a way that even I started to care. So I kind of followed him there... Then when he went to the Flame I followed him there. It was then that he started doing his interview things, you know, where he’ll talk to people and then put the story together in their own words? He’d always say that one day he would write about Yang’s fleet, and we all laughed at him, like who would want to read that? But I read those specials he had about what was going on in “Neueland” in the time of Iserlohn Republic, and man, I had no idea there were so many people working against the Keiser all over the place. That was when I first heard of the Marovia insurgence, and the Lohengrin incident? We had no idea about what was going on in the world.

One morning I walked into Linz on Korobeinik’s passenger deck. I was covered in lipstick from the night before and oatmeal from that morning. He had all his possessions with him, he was heading to Heinessen after a divorce. Like many other Rosen Ritters he tried to move to the land of his ancestors and see how that would work out for him. It didn’t, but he didn’t seem bothered by that. I was happy to see him. He stayed in touch with many of his guys. Many were doing well - wives, jobs, babies, all that. Some were in the Forces. Schlözer was running an underground fight club. Ahrensmeyer hung himself the year before that, and some more were in a pretty bad shape. That could have happened to me too during my Fezzan years, had I been the brooding type. Booze, women and flying saved me from drugs, wives and employment. We drank to them all, dead and living.

Have you seen the picture over the star charts? Linz drew that. It’s Sonya when he first met her. She had just learned to run, and we couldn’t even take a hologram without it getting smudgy, but his portraits have always been spot on. Linz flew with me six months later again, brought along gifts for Sonya from the  _ Brüder _ . Coveralls with a badge that are still too large for her, some candy and a  _ toy axe _ . The Ritters must have secretly hated me more than Attenborough’s sisters hated him. 

After Linz, the word was out. Gotten some letters, and flown some old friends over the years. Found out about Caldwell… Fuck, I never thought that he’d do something like that. See, that’s why I wanted to stay away. Julian and Karin sent pictures of the baby, I sent them Sonya’s lucky romper. Did some runs for Teivans. He was an interstellar trader, he said, but he also said that it would be better if we avoided the patrols. I’ll fly whatever as long as it’s not drugs, slaves or religious fanatics. Once I got a wedding invitation from Attenborough. Recognised her from that book he got the Adamowicz Prize for, the one about the Lohengrin. A surgeon, discharged, got locked up after her cover was blown, was in Rugpool, got out, then caught, then finally released in the March 14th amnesty. Pretty badass, and smart, I bet. I would actually be in Heipolis in time for the wedding, but I didn’t go to anyone else’s, so why this one. 

I never wanted to be the Iserlohn veteran driver, you know, so I’ve avoided flying old acquaintances a bit, especially if the run was dull. But then the Cazernes wanted to go home from a vacation on Odin, it fit into other plans, and I had some business to talk with them about. Perfect. It was great seeing them. Charlotte is all grown up now, thinks she wants to be a vet. Elise was still a kid, thought it was cool to meet a starship pilot, so I showed her around, answered her questions, you know. Reminded me of Karin, but less moody. Hortense is… mmmh! She started a catering company with a friend. Alex is the minister of… something. I bet he’s still doing something that no one understands, but that’s why everything else works. Now that I look back at it, Yang’s fleet wouldn’t stand a chance without Cazerne. 

Anyway, thing is, Sonya is six soon, right? When I knew I wanted kids, I think I knew pretty well what I was getting into. One third of the time I’ll have her has gone by now, you know, and it’s mostly easy. I’m just myself around her, pay attention, wipe whatever needs wiping. It’s not complicated. But thing is, twenty years ago, things were different. Back then, you could just enlist. A guy like me could make a name for myself. But now, you need to go to school properly. Sonya learns a lot here, it’s good for her, meeting people, seeing places, she speaks German, but I can’t  _ home school _ her. And no, no boarding school, that’s just a lame excuse not to care about your kid. So we have to settle down somewhere, somehow, and I had no idea how. 

I told this to the Cazernes when the kids were in bed, or pretended to be. First they thought I wanted them to take Sonya, they seemed pretty delighted about that, actually. I get it. Everyone loves her. When she grows up, she’ll break hearts left and right. Men, women... if those expeditions find new lifeforms with hearts, she’ll break those too. But yeah, no, Sonya stays with me. Cazernes promised to help me with all the paperwork. I showed Alex her papers, he gave me that old “you’ve fucked up, young man” look, but that look always meant that he’d make it work. She was born in a  _ hospital _ , okay? How could her papers not be in order?

Another night Alex went to bed early, and Hortense and I were up talking over some sherry. What, it’s  _ nice _ . She was still same old Hortense, bright and made you feel good about yourself. We talked about books, runs I’ve flown, normal stuff. She said she was happy to see that I refused sending Sonya away for school. Father of the year, that’s me! They lived in Heipolis, in a neighbourhood where many other revolutionaries settled down. Julian and Karin lived there, Greenhill, Attenborough. 

“He invited you to his wedding, right?”, Hortense asked. 

“I couldn’t make it”, I said. 

She looked at me, “Yeah”.

“Who’s the lucky lady?”.

Hortense told me a bit about her. Apparently she was more badass than I thought. There was a reactor leak on her carrier at Astarte, she kept operating throughout the evacuation. Couldn’t work in space after that, and not travel much either. Was honorably discharged, sent home with a medal and an okay pension, worked at S:t Clara’s. And well, apparently just saving lives wasn’t enough. Prison didn’t do her much good health-wise, that’s why she was released in the amnesty. It’s not like she’s dying or anything, but she has to stay close to her clinic to get her treatments. She works as a trauma surgeon,  _ of course _ .

“They met when he was doing the interviews. I knew they were friends for a couple of years. I was a bit surprised when they decided to tie the knot, but they get along well… they have a lot in common, the humor gets dark, they are interesting to talk to, we have dinners sometimes… but I can’t really see…  _ You  _ know. The…”. Hortense did this little sensual movement. It was obvious what she meant, and also, mmmmh!

“Why not?”, I asked. 

Hortense shrugged, “Well, I don’t pick up that energy. Besides, well, I’ve always thought Dusty was… well, way more gay than not gay?”. 

I went “Wait, what?”, and she just laughed.

“Oh,  _ come on _ !”. 

“But, I mean, why would he get married if they don’t fuck?”, I couldn’t get it, I mean, why would you,  _ right _ ? 

Hortense rolled her eyes, “Maybe to make people stop asking him why he was still a bachelor all the time. I don’t know. I just… I know I’ve been asking a lot. Maybe he just got fed up.” She sighed.

“But he and you, you did it, right?”, I asked.

Hortense made that face she does when she remembers something sexy, it hadn’t changed at all. She laughed, “My my, he  _ told  _ you? He’s always been so secretive! But yeah, a couple of times. Thing is, well, he was fun and really attentive, and you know, he looked  _ good _ . But… With you, it was, well, pretty obvious you  _ love  _ a woman. Same with Alex. Even now, if I just walk undressed from the shower to the closet, he’ll notice, like a sixth sense. He’ll  _ react _ . That’s what I’m used to, you know. Dusty was different. Not bad, the little I saw of him, but different, clearly.” She lit up talking about me, too. No one forgets Poplin!

“But who cares about him and me...Him, and  _ you _ … That’s, you know,  _ another clue _ ”. 

I shrugged, “Nah, it wasn’t like  _ that _ ”.

“ _ Nothing _ back then was  _ like that _ . It doesn’t mean it wasn’t a thing.”

“Well, it happened from time to time, but you know, everyone did it with everyone at some point”.

Hortense leaned back, bursting out in giggles. When she throws her head back, her neck… man… She seemed to find this hilarious. “Oh,  _ come on _ , Olivier! Your clothes were always a lovely museum of hair from around the world, all types and colours. But Dusty’s hair was a permanent exhibition”.

“What? We worked a lot together!”. 

“He blew you on the bridge!”. 

“He what?! No!.. Maybe…”. 

Hortense was cracking up. “Alex… He.. He’d come back from meetings and tell me about how you two were bickering in front of everyone, I swear…”

“Bickering, like how?”

“You know it better, you were  _ there _ ! But you had that thing when you were bragging about how you’re are good with women, like an idiot... And then you’d tell Dusty that he’s a bachelor like he didn’t know… Oh dear, Alex would come back and be all ‘they’re cute, but could they maybe please do that in private? This is a meeting was about what we’ll answer Keiser Reinhardt, not a date night.’”

“That was friendly! That’s how I talk with friends!”

“You used your conference screens to send each-other notes about what you would do later that night”

“No one saw that!”

“ _ Everyone _ saw that!”

Hortense’s eyes got teary, her shoulders were shaking, face flushed. She caught her breath, and then looked at me, this warm smile, like I was a kid. “Olivier, you are more clueless than Yang and Greenhill, congratulations”. She dried the tears with the back of her hand and started fanning her face, calming down, but falling into small giggle fits. I poured some water into her big glass and refilled the small ones. When she was done laughing, she asked “Look, I’m just saying. If you felt the same way about a woman, the way you felt about Attenborough, what would you call it?”.

I raised my glass and changed the subject, “So, do you and Alex still do  _ that thing _ ?”. She gave me a look that said yes, but she wouldn’t talk. The rest of the night we just talked about stuff... About  _ what  _ is not important, what’s important is  _ how _ . I know she could tell what I wanted. I could damn well tell what she wanted. Nothing happened, but I felt great the day after. They way she’d make you feel. 

The Cazernes disembarked at Srinagar, there was a research station there they wanted to visit. They told me they’d help me to get Sonya into a good school. They also said they’d see about jobs, I have to work  _ somewhere _ . I’m not picky, I don’t need a title or anything, but I need to do something. I’m thinking, I need to settle down for seven… eight...ten years, tops, until it’s okay for Sonya to live on her own. I’ll still be young. 

Thing is… what Hortense said, it really stuck with me. What would I call whatever was going on between me and Attenborough if he was a woman? I didn’t think about him often before I met Hortense, but after that, the asshole just started getting into my head. I was kissing this dutchess, and suddenly I remembered that this one thing I did, I got it from him. He kissed like that, and I took after him. I remembered the tapestry, how my hands felt against it. I remembered the bridge quite well... wonder who saw us? I think I know which particular time Hortense heard about, but there were more, and worse… thank you FPA for saving on security cameras. Maybe she knew about all of it, and just went soft on me?

And I remember stuff like… It was never completely dark on Iserlohn, the low lights were always on, in case rebels would attack in the middle of the night… Annoying as Hell. I taped over mine, but Dusty kept his. Said he liked how it was a place in space that wasn’t all dark. He had nightmares, talked in his sleep… I would wake up, and, like, bump him a little? Like I do with Sonya. I remember what his face looked like when I knew he was sleeping peacefully and I could stop bumping.

It wasn’t hard to leave, but leaving has never been hard. Yet… the last year on Iserlohn, I was with him a  _ lot _ . I don’t know why I acted like I didn’t know what Hortense was talking about. He’d put out two recovery drinks by the bed, and in the morning, he’d open mine for me, and I tried to drink before sitting up and spilled it over my face and pillow. I actually had  _ my  _ pillow. I don’t remember ever feeling like I’d miss him if he’d die, but there was no way he would die. He’d never die.

If I would count me and Attenborough as a relationship, that would be my longest ever. Maybe a tie with Yemi, I guess it depends on how you count. So my longest relationships have been with a man and a lesbian? What does it make  _ me _ ? If Attenborough counts, does Konev count too? Because if he does, man… There’s nothing wrong with being gay, but I’m just not, you know? I can’t be? I haven’t been with a man for years. I love women, it’s just that I’ve been thinking about Dusty a lot lately. A lot. If he just walked in now, the way I remember him, I would… I absolutely would. But that’s when he was young. I don’t even know if I’d be attracted to him now. I saw him on tv last year, no sound, it was at a space port. He looks a bit older, some grey in his hair, but he moves like before. Maybe he smells the same too.

Okay, so even if this counts as a relationship. Even if it counts, what do I do now? Do I just turn up at his doorstep with Sonya… “Hi Dusty, this is your Iserlohn ex! Sorry I didn’t come to your wedding, though I could, and for not writing you back. But, hey, look, I have a daughter now! We’ll live in your neighbourhood, because Hortense said it would be good for Sonya that so many people who know her dad live nearby. Actually, funny story, a couple of years ago… Sonya was still a baby… My ship had a layover at some godforsaken place, and every store had that  _ thing  _ in those tower bottles, do you remember? I bought a bottle and drank it myself that night. Terrible decision. I didn’t see your sister though, is she doing alright? How’s your wife? Do you guys fuck or is this something else? Is there room for me?”

**Author's Note:**

> Gave myself an early christmast gift and ordered three illus from Atumn Sacura, so check out https://imgur.com/p0JjrKD for Dusty and couch, https://imgur.com/TTLISB0 for Hortense and chill, and https://imgur.com/ulBkBAm for IDIOT knocking on Konev's door in the middle of the night. 
> 
> As you might noticed, I did a #writober2020 challenge. If you feel like you need more bittersweetness/smut, nr 4, 15, 18, 19, 22, 25 and 28 spin directly on this and some more are compatible. Xoxo


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